A Favour Returned
by Conspiracy Girl
Summary: Sequel to Can I Ask A Favour of You? aka, the Return of the Overworked Coffee Shop Girl, aka Scully's Answer


Title: A Favour Returned  
Author: Conspiracy Girl  
Rating:maybe a smidgefor language. No smut, just extreme bitchiness. Shipper-friendly.  
Feedback: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE at They're mine, all mine, and I'm using the insanity defense! I have proof.  
Dedication: This is a sequel to "Can I Ask a Favour of You?". It was only intended as a release of stress that didn't involve the public service of killing my brother (he wasn't home). But crazy people who obviously have nothing better to do actually wrote that it was good, and the certifiable Ann Elisabeth and drscully1121 asked for a sequel( I like you), so here it is. Be grateful; my stupid computer dumped the entire first draft so this is draft 2.  
Summary: The poor overworked coffee shop girl gets her favour returned. Third person POV.

Does no one in this city have anything better to do than come to this specific coffee shop right now and harass me? Is there some kind of coffee shortage? I have cleaning to do, and I don't wanna be here until 3 a.m. again. There's this little thing called SLEEP that I'm actually rather fond of, and I'd like to get around to it this millennium.

10:30 on a Friday night. Naturally I'm at work. I'm not out enjoying my youth at a party or the movies, or at home watching tv or even studying for that stupid history test Monday that I've been trying to forget about. No, I'm asking people "What would you like in your coffee?" with a smile that ran out of fuel after around my fifth burn. Not to mention almost slicing my thumb off. Stupid bagel knife. Why is it so sharp, anyway?

Oh wonderful, here comes someone else. Like I'm not busy. Customers are the biggest impediment to work. Never mind, it's Mulder and Scully. I swear, even their names go together. You can't just think 'Mulder', or 'Scully', it's always 'Mulder and Scully'. Weird. At least they can order properly. This shouldn't take long. Here they come.

"Evening Heather," Mulder says as he ducks into the bathroom. He is echoed by Scully's "Hello Heather," as she comes up to the counter.

"Evening. The usual?" I reply, already pouring it.

"Yes, please. So Mulder tells me he was in here last weekend." Scully doesn't pull off chitchat very well.

"Yeah. 'Course, one of you is in here just about every week. Would you like anything else?" I ask her.

"Yes. Can I get a low fat raspberry muffin and a half dozen donuts... strawberry vanilla, double chocolate, apple fritter...honey cruller, and...two cherry filled, please."

I get it and ring it up. She pays, and business is done. There's still gossip, though.

"Mulder says he asked you for a favour when he was here."

"Yeah. Did you like it?" I ask, tongue in cheek.

"Yes, very much. Thank you. He also says you asked him for a favour in return."

"Uh huh. But I think you already repaid me for him." I jerk my head towards where her left hand is casually resting on top of the display case. I make a mental note to find the Windex and clean it. I start closing down one of the coffee stations while I'm talking to her. If everyone would just wipe the counter after they've spilled something, there wouldn't be a stained mess every night for the closing person to have to clean up.

Scully blushes slightly, but holds her head up high. I didn't even know she could blush. Though I've heard it's good for the complexion. She doesn't need it.

"Still...thank you. So, how much did you make off your betting pool here on us?" she asked with a mischevious light in her eyes.

"Nothing. We poor coffee people don't make enough to bet money. Saving for university, you know. But I did win gloating rights, which are extended if you said yes." I love gloating.

"University? How old are you?" she asks. Is my age somehow relevant to my ability to pour hot liquids?

"Old enough to be happy for you instead of going 'Ew! Mushy stuff!'." My sisters all do that. We have to fast-forward through all romance scenes in movies at my place. "Titanic" lost a lot of it's impact. They didn't even approve of "Sleeping Beauty".

"Thank you."

"So how much did it go to at your work?" I ask. I assume Feds are paid better, since most of their salaries go to us.

"I heard that it was up to 5000. Our boss won. He congratulated us- right after warning us to adhere to Bureau regs at work." She's mildly annoyed that even the boss knew, but she's so pleased about the whole situation, she's letting it slide.

"So let me add my congratulations, and an 'it's about time'." I smile. I am happy for them, and a little envious. Not because she has Mulder (well, maybe a little. The man is HOT), but because it's so obvious how much they love each other. I only wish I had someone to look at me like that. Oh well. And where are all the damn washclothes again?

Mulder comes out of the washroom and takes Scully's hand. Hand-holding? That's new. They pick up their order, say goodnight, and leave.

I go over to the drive-through area to make more coffee. It really isn't THAT hard to make more BEFORE we run out. I see them through the window. They are so incredibly sweet together. I'm envious all over again, but it's like a romance movie come true.

They stop by their car. It's dark, but there's a light over the drive-through window. I don't know what kind it is, beyond blue. Dad's a car freak, but the only types of cars I want to know about are 'working' and 'broken'.

He goes around to unlock and open her door. Somehow he manages to make it look chivalrous, not sexist. They put the food inside, but he stops her from getting in. He puts her arms around her, and she reciprocates. He looks up, and sees me looking out the window. He smiles and mouths "thank you", and then refocuses on her. I can't see her face, but I can see his, and I can tell that he wishes he could never leave her arms. I shouldn't be watching, this is a private moment, but it's so beautiful. They are so beautiful. There's an almost celestial radiance to them.

Their heads move towards each other in slow motion. Finally, their lips fuse. It's perfect- there's no other word. Their own personal utopia. I wish...well, I wish.

They eventually draw apart, and he helps her into the car before going around to his side. He gets in, and they drive off. The sun set a while ago, but I'm sure that they will drive off into the sunset and live happily ever after.

And you know, Mulder has terrific taste in rings. Thegold Irish claddagh engagement ring he gave Scully suits her perfectly. I bet the wedding will be wonderful.

There, done. And the moral of this story is, be nice to the coffee shop people. They are human, and probably homicidal by the end of their shift. Insert yet another plea for feedback.

"Scully?"  
"Yes?"  
"Marry me!"  
"Yes!"  
-the real Chinga


End file.
